Dead Weight
by RelapseAndEscape
Summary: Will berates Finn on his dancing and how it's going to cost them Sectionals, to the point where he pushes him to the break of an eating disorder. It hits the hardest when Santana finds him trying to purge. Finn angst. Oneshot.


The first time Finn feels that heaviness in his stomach, that kind of sinking feeling, is _not_ when Burt throws him out of the house, or when he can't be there for Kurt during the Karofsky situation – it's when Will Schuester moves towards him just after Sectionals.

He doesn't say a word, and feels pale in the light of the room. Blaine and Kurt had been the last people here, with Blaine trying to convince Kurt to go to dinner with him tonight at a luxury restaurant and actually eat something other than lettuce leaves this time. Finn remembers a tentative smile finding its way towards his lips—

Then _that_ feeling sinks in.

It's like nausea settling into his stomach, cold and unforgettable type of nausea that doesn't escape his stomach at all. But it's Mr Schue. He shouldn't feel this way. Finn smiles brilliantly at the man and Mr Schue's grinning back at him as he clasps his hands together.

Then he launches. "Finn…your dancing on that number…can we _talk_ about it?"

Finn tries to shake off the feeling, like dead weight in him, and nods towards him, grinning wildly at the man as if he's expecting praise. He is, in fact. Even Mike has told him he's been improving a whole lot, and has constantly joked about the fact that Finn might even be better than him one day, it's a joke but it makes Finn feel secure with his dancing at least.

Tonight, on that stage, he'd felt really good about it even, as if his dancing isn't horrible and he's not worried about being clumsy and awkward because he's tall. It's not like the judges can avoid what he does because of his height, he's practically impossible to _not_ notice in the glimmering lights. And he doesn't trip once. He does each move in sync and in key, almost like it's a flowing wave of water crashing. There is no hesitation and Finn honestly thinks he's improving a whole lot. Blaine even complimented his technique on one of the jazz steps.

Finn nods towards him, grin still intact.

"It's horrible."

Finn's mouth twitches as he bites down his lower lip. Mr Schue puts his hands up as if he's trying to defend himself, and then says, "Finn, I really care about Glee and I can't let you do this to them. They're working so hard."

Finn nods towards him, feeling his words pierce in him like a knife searing inside of him. It's indicating that Finn isn't working hard when he really does. He even stays back sometimes and gets Blaine to teach him, even though he doesn't even _like_ Blaine, but he's a really good dancer. Kurt has offered and Finn's never turned down the offer.

"Do you remember Nationals last year? We could've won, Finn," and then there's a certain tightness in his throat accompanying the dead weight in his stomach as he nods once more. Finn just stares at Will numbly, almost as if he's lost all feeling but the lead-like heaviness that's taking him over. "But we didn't. Do you really want to throw us off this time? I mean, you completely messed up the sequence of the steps in the first song."

Finn remembers him only messing up two steps twice, and that when he asks Kurt, Kurt just laughs and says that the judges don't look that closely and neither would Mr Schue.

"—and then you nearly tripped on the last few steps."

They're hard, and he hasn't tripped, but if he looks like it, can they cut him down for that? Oh God.

"You're not in sync with them at all. It's almost like you're not in the same dance routine as they are. They're faster and move smoother than you do, as if they're more comfortable. I'm just glad that the judges gave us first place even though I was sure they weren't because of that number."

Finn's voice feels small as he states. "You're right, Mr Schue." And Will's never been wrong so far. He's been stating fact, fact that Finn cannot deny, and he realises that Will must be right and he's horrible. They must be _pitying_ him, he thinks and now the tightness is even worse, almost as if he's eating fire and it's burning in his throat, almost as if he's choking and can't breathe.

He's tried so hard, and yet again, he's not enough.

"Finn," Will's voice is strong. "Do you _understand_ what I'm saying?"

And now, Finn feels like a child, because of the way Will emphasises on 'understand', almost as if Finn's really stupid and doesn't get anything. He wonders if the man standing before them is the same man that used to wrap his arms around Finn and hug him tightly. Finn then realises that Will must be under a lot of pressure, so he dismisses it, besides, it's only one time that Will makes Finn feel _this_ uncomfortable.

"Yes, Mr Schue."

"But I'm gonna help you, okay? Extra one on one sessions with me," Will says and Finn feels like a lost cause, as if Will's trying to help someone that _can't_ be helped at all. Finn feels grateful all of a sudden, that Will would do that for him, and he nods his head towards him. Will produces a sickly sweet smile that makes Finn want to hurl. He hasn't felt _this_ way before.

He feels empty by the time that Will leaves, and when he steps inside of Kurt's car, he's realised he's never felt as helpless as right then.

* * *

Finn's very nervous, so before he goes into the choir room for the first one-on-one session, he's shoved a huge giant pretzel down his throat and a bit of cold pasta. He feels more comfortable and more secure when he eats, as he is a slight emotional eater. There's that heaviness again, just before he opens the door, building up like anxiety and he can't stand it anymore because he feels if he feels the pressure inside of him anymore he's going to throw himself off the bridge.

He needs Will's approval, or they will all suffer and they will lose and it will be his fault that Rachel and Kurt haven't gotten to their dream school. And if Kurt's hurt, then Blaine will be too and Blaine's been helping him so bad. It isn't fair to him. It isn't fair to any one of them that Finn's just so much of a fuck-up.

Regionals is half-way throughout the year, and so, they have only three months to try and prepare him enough to be presentable. Will nods towards Finn and then stares at him, assesses him with those eyes of his, as if they're seeing through his shirt, and Finn's mouth is wide open.

"Close your mouth, Finn." It's an order, and it's not cold or anything but Finn nods. He feels like a small child. His anxiety simply builds up the minute that Will adjusts the music and lets it blare out into the open. Will does the dance moves only once, and in such smoothness and rhythm that Finn hasn't really memorised it all in his mind. He stops mid-way and stares at Finn.

He restarts the song. Now, he's staring at Finn. Finn nods, takes a deep breath and begins to dance. The first few steps he gets perfectly, and then his mind draws a blank as his anxiety flies through the roof and the heaviness makes him stop for a second as he bites down his lower lip.

Will stops the music. The silence hurts. "Finn." His voice simply says his name but his eyes are analysing him. _He's not enough._

"Again."

Will doesn't even show him again and then restarts the music patiently and Finn feels the same anxiety build up with the moves. It's like his body's on automatic and his shoulders are so tense that he can practically die from shaking. Will stops the music midway through. Finn doesn't expect Will to shove him off like he's nothing and stare at him. "How many times do I have to show you? Can't you get it right the first time? They're _simple_ moves, and in a _simple_ sequence."

As if Finn can't do even the smallest things right. Will repeats the moves quickly, and if Finn blinks, he's missed three difference dances at the same time, as Will opens up the music again. This time, Finn stumbles from the beginning from the distress that's floating inside of him.

"Can you do _anything_ right? Finn, this is Nationals! It's not fair to them if you go off and screw this up! This is your last year and I don't care if you don't feel the need to try for them at least."

Finn stares at Will silently, driven by ambition, as he opens up the stereo again and then puts it on full. "Again!" his voice is strict and loud. Finn nods towards him and repeats the steps, getting them completely perfect this time. Finn feels empty though, not that kind of happiness he does when he gets it right, when Mike high-fives him, or when Blaine does that stupid happy face, or when Kurt jumps up and down in pure and utter glee.

Finn's numb by then as Will stares at him. "AGAIN." He repeats, as if Finn's done something wrong.

Finn repeats the dance sequence at least ten times before Will hits his hand against the stereo and then leaves angrily. "Can't do anything right!"

Finn looks down at his feet, feeling nearly ready to cry. The next time that he has one of them, he finds himself picking at Kurt's leftovers and eating them even though he's sure that they don't taste like anything right now. He can still feel the taste as he walks into the choir room. He's there early but Will looks annoyed, as if he's expecting him earlier than this.

_That_ feeling is killing Finn right now. It's engulfed to every time he sees Will, and it's followed him around in Spanish. He doesn't want to get up in the morning anymore because he doesn't want to be berated by Will Schuester. When Finn stumbles this time, Will just shuts the stereo completely and glares at him as icily as ever before. "You know what?" Will's voice is like coldness seeping into Finn's blood. Even though Will's really nice outside of these dance sessions, Finn can't help but feel empty.

He doesn't want to hear it anymore.

"You're a lost cause." Will sighs, rubbing his temples. "Let's start that from the beginning and I will accept no mistakes."

When Finn hits it perfectly, Will doesn't say anything as he proceeds to show him something more complicated and Finn stumbles and falls again against the first few seconds, causing Will to roll his eyes, making everything set into his skin, in his blood, as he feels the need to hurt himself just to prove how worthless he's being. Finn stands up and Will puts the song back again. Those sessions have become Finn's nightmare, and right now, Finn's dancing as if he has two left feet, unable to really see through anything past the pain.

When Will stops the music, he's glaring at him as he gets up from the ground. His body aches. The impact of the floor to the ground so many times has caused Finn to feel like he's breaking into pieces. His anxiety is through the roof and if he speaks now, he'll never stop talking.

"You know what would help? If you weren't the heaviest guy in Glee."

Finn stares at him and feels numb.

Finn doesn't know anything about dieting, but he knows that the less he eats, the better. He doesn't eat in the morning and then finds out that in the afternoon, he's so lightheaded from hunger that everything looks good. He skips lunch with the Gleeks and they don't notice it. Because of the lack of food, he can't seem to muster up the energy to care. By the time that he goes to the choir room practices, he's so lightheaded and dizzy that he gets the moves wrong all of the time.

So he goes home and at dinner, he eats. He eats like Kurt does. Or tries to. Kurt eats his food moderately, so Finn just spends five minutes on a singular piece of chicken just to make it last. He's _starving_. He wants more and more and more. This scares him.

He ends up eating less and less most days, and then Will shouts at him because he's too dizzy or tired to do any of his dance moves. He can't put effort into anything and all he wants to do is sleep. He hears from Sam that working out might help improve his balance, so he does work out with Sam for those few hours. After a while, Sam's telling him to calm down because he swears that Finn takes it nearly too seriously.

He spends most of his time at home dancing. He thinks he passes out more on several occasions but since it's on his bed, Kurt thinks that he's asleep and is just a heavy sleeper. When Finn stirs, he realises that it's five am or six, and he's starving again. He's come to hate his life to the extent that he just wants it to be over. All he ever wants is to get Will's approval again. There's been a time where Will's happy that Finn's so much like him, that he's perfect in his eyes.

He gives up. And eats. He feels like a failure, so he purges. It's become nearly habitual for him to hate himself so much that he'd give up and eat everything and then purge it out. It hurts his throat like the tightness does but no matter how long he spends throwing up, the dead weight still lingers in him, making him heavier.

Regionals is in a week. Finn's been hauled to practice with Will every singular day. Today is just like no other. Santana watches Kurt offer his apple for him just before practice because he looks tired. Finn shakes his head before he steps into the choir room.

Santana moves towards the room to watch Will standing there, expectant. Santana nearly thinks that Finn looks paler, or that Will looks harsher suddenly. He opens up the stereo and then shows Finn the moves he has to memorise. He dances so quick that even Santana can't pick up the pattern. She watches Finn pale even more as he stands in the centre. Finn tries to copy the moves completely, but in the middle, just looks so lightheaded and sick that he stops. He lies down to take a few breaths.

Will glares at him. "Oh God, please, are you so fat that you can't even dance a few moves without getting winded?"

Santana's eyes widen. Did Will Schuester just say that? Will Schuester, the man who Finn idolises and look up to as a Father for a good amount of time, say _that_? She feels her hands ball into fists.

"We're gonna _lose_ Regionals! You just keep on getting worse and worse. How is that even possible? You're the worst dancer I know!"

Finn stares down and then begs. "Mr Schue, I'm really tired."

Will laughs as if it's the most absurd excuse he's heard. "Finn, stand up and redo that sequence and you won't leave here until you get it right!"

By the time Finn gets it right, it's actually nearly four and a half and the boy's spent a good hour trying to perfect the sequence. He looks like he's going to suddenly faint on Will any second. Will shakes his head. "God, you are hopeless."

Will storms out looking as enraged as ever before. Santana watches Finn leave and this time, he's in tears. He's crying and she watches him leave. Unsure if he'd do anything stupid, Santana follows him easily, making sure not to get caught. She's hesitant when she see him walking inside of the boy's locker room.

He doesn't bother shutting the stall, thinking he's alone as he drops down to his knees, and then watches him hang his head inside of the toilet bowl. What he throws up is clear and colourless. Water. Bile. He's throwing up his own stomach acid because he hasn't eaten anything.

He presses his head against the toilet bowl and then tries to throw up again. The heaviness in his chest is still there and this time, the strong scent of the bile hangs in the air. If he keeps on throwing up like that, he's going to dehydrate himself completely.

"Hudson, fucking stop."

Finn pauses at the voice and then looks up to see Santana there.

"How long has he been leading you to _this_?"

Finn's mouth is twitching. "San, please, just leave it—"

"Not a fucking chance," Santana snaps, but it's more towards anger to Will and Finn can see that.

Finn stares down at his feet. "Ever since after Sectionals." Santana stares at him. That's nearly over three months ago, _nearly_.

Santana sits down beside him and Finn stares at her for a while, as he blinks back tears. Santana moves forward and hugs him tightly. She can feel him shake under her as he dissolves into tears again. "I just wanted him to be okay with me." Finn says, sniffing.

"So you decided to get an eating disorder for the likes of that bastard?"

"W-_what_? San, I don't…"

"Hudson! You tried to throw up bile for God's sake."

Finn relaxes into her arms as he nods his head. "I just wanted to feel empty. He made me feel like I deserved it, San. That I deserved to feel like this…like I should just go die off or something because I don't dance right. I tried. It's just the harder I try…the worse…the worse I get."

"Bastard," Santana mumbles under her breath, insulting Will. "Come on. Let's blow this. There's a restaurant close by."

"But—"

"That's an order, Hudson," and this time, there's a smile to her lips as she brings him close to her. "You need fries to survive, got it?"

Finn's felt the lightest he's had in weeks without that dead weight sinking as deeply as he nods towards her. "Thanks."

By the time that she takes him home, nobody's there so she settles on staying with him all day. He's fidgety when he doesn't practice but she watches as he sleeps. The boy's so tired and run down he falls asleep for the next seventeen hours and doesn't wake up until Santana shakes him to make sure he hasn't fallen into a coma.

"Hey," Santana says, noticing how pale he is. "Get up, bitch. We gotta make sure your body moves before it becomes paralysed in that position."

"That isn't possible," Finn says, blushing.

"Yeah," Santana smiles at him. "Get up, Hudson."

Finn stands up and then sluggishly falls on top of Santana, whom holds him again and then her body relaxes as she tightens her grip around him as if she's embracing him. "You dizzy, sport?"

Finn nods his head. "Y-yeah."

Santana's anger is ignited as she watches Finn slip down onto the ground, on top of the blankets, and then stare up at her. Santana leaves, but returns with a tray of different amalgamations of food and desserts. Finn looks at her quizzically before he picks off an egg salad sandwich. She joins him and it's like their little picnic in his room. By the time that the two hours are done with, the food's circled around and between them. She lies down at her back, and he does so beside her. By the time she looks back at him, he's asleep again, which slightly worries her. She doesn't know about this kind of shit, just that it doesn't seem right that he's sleeping so much.

By the time that he groggily wakes up, he tells her to leave because he's just going to keep on sleeping on her. It's like his body's just tired as it gives up on him.

When it rolls around the next day, Santana notices that Will's just been staring at Finn's empty seat that morning and he looks lightly irritated. Glee ends after what seems like hours and Santana waits until everyone leaves. When she's sure nobody's coming back, Santana stands up and walks to Will with angry eyes. "Did you see what you did to him?"

Will looks confused. "Santana, I don't—"

"Finn."

"Did he complain about—"now, there's anger rising up in his voice.

"No!" Santana snaps coldly as her eyes burn in hatred. "No, he didn't come to me, Schuester. I've been eavesdropping and you've got another nerve treating your 'favourite' like he's a piece of trash. He _cried_. And shit, didn't you make Glee just so you can avoid that crap? Bullying? To run away from the fucking world? Well, he's running away from _you_. I found him on the ground and he shoves his finger down his throat…"

Will now seems stunned. "And he tries to throw up, but he hasn't eaten. And don't you dare pin it on the fact that I call him fat. The kid doesn't give a damn about what I say. He can shove it off, but you are like his Father to him. And you drove him…to fucking do that. You gave him an eating disorder."

Will doesn't see Finn for the rest of the week until it's time to go to Regionals. By the time he sees Finn, he doesn't even meet his eyes and stays very close to Santana. Santana's eyes are on Finn's face, nearly all of the time. Will gives each one of them their pre-fitted costumes. It ends up looking great on them all, except it annoys Will that Finn's so big on him right now. Santana tries to get him to eat the sandwich in his hands, but Will notices that Finn doesn't even bring his lips to the sandwich, as if he's afraid. Afraid of being judged. By _him_.

"Eat. It." Santana's voice is an order now and Finn slowly brings it to his mouth and takes a tentative bite. He doesn't look away from the sandwich, as if he's trying to pretend that Will doesn't exist. He can see zucchini, peppers and cheese all stuffed inside, the protein and fibre that Finn so desperately needs right now. Finn stops himself from eating after Santana leaves when Quinn's asked her to help her with her dress, and he takes a swing of water, and leaves to the bathroom.

Will walks after him, and sees it with his own eyes – Finn's desperation, as he lies down and throws up the little amount of the sandwich he'd eaten. It's professional. He doesn't need to shove his fingers down his throat, or shove a toothbrush—all he really needs to do is bend down right now and force it all by his stomach muscles. Finn's just about to leave when he pales at the sight of Will standing there, as Finn's jittery hands fall to his sides awkwardly. "Mr Schue…"

Will brushes his hand towards Finn's hair, and then stares down at his cheeks, his swollen cheeks. "What did I do to you?"

Finn stares at him with red-rimmed eyes and then sobs once and twice. He can't look at Will as he shoves him away and walks off. The black scarf that he's been wearing is dangling awkwardly around his neck, and his cardigan feels like it's second skin pressing against him. The next time Will sees him, is in the crowds, when Santana gives him an encouraging nod as he dances. He dances every step perfectly in the dance. When Will meets up with him after Regionals, he's grinning wildly at him. "Finn, that was—"

"Practically messed up the first sequence, my legs were awkward in the fifth, and by the time that the dance ends, I stop early." Finn asses himself harshly. "I know."

"Finn…" Will's eyes are wide.

Finn turns around and then coldly stands by the doorway. He stares back at Will and then bites his lip before spitting out the words. "I've got to go celebrate with Kurt about a Regionals that I nearly fucked up and throw up the dinner that I don't want to eat. Talk to you later, Mr Schue."

Will's mouth is hanging open as he stares at Finn leaving. The dead weight is on Finn's shoulders still, but this time, the weight's entirely his own, conjured up by his mind. If it was Will Schuester, he could run, but this is his body, his mind. And he is afraid of himself. He cannot hate anyone more like he hates himself. So he lets the dead weight sink in, until it will soon be the cause of his death. Until it hurts as much as Will wanted it to hurt only a few days ago. Because after all, he isn't trying hard enough.

He isn't dying fast enough.


End file.
